


Stories of the Second Self: Bond of Brothers

by John_Steiner



Series: Alter Idem [110]
Category: National Guard - Fandom, Police - Fandom, Urban Fantasy - Fandom, crime - Fandom, social justice - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:22:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22622479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/John_Steiner/pseuds/John_Steiner
Summary: Jerrod Connor's intervention on his brother, Michael's behalf had made real progress. Yet, a call from his human father makes Jerrod think something went wrong, and he has to go out to find Michael before it's too late. Sirens police cars lead Jerrod deep into Silverton, the one neighborhood werewolves were least welcomed.
Series: Alter Idem [110]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618813





	Stories of the Second Self: Bond of Brothers

It was going so well, Jerrod thought. Michael stayed away from his Ridgewood homies, and even appeared to not act so tough with random people. Jerrod was at home in Norwood's east side, when his father called early in the morning.

Having found one of many extremely low-cost houses, Jerrod snapped it up with a mortgage and moved in a month ago. He'd also met a woman, and was about to head out to a morning date with her until being informed by his dad that Michael hadn't come home last night.

Not wanting it to be true, Jerrod nonetheless suspected a relapse, and got out on his motorcycle to go look for Michael. He cruised around the usual haunts where Ridgewood Pack members hung out, but didn't bother asking them about Michael. He knew wouldn't volunteer anything, and likely they'd just walk away rather than let micro expressions reveal them to be lying.

Then, a police car zipped across the intersection that Jerrod approached. The lights weren't on, but Jerrod could tell the officer was responding to an emergency. He decided to follow.

Ending up in Silverton wasn't a good sign, when Jerrod caught up with the police car at burger joint formerly owned by a major franchise, and now a local business. They hadn't bothered to take down the red head girl image associated with the previous owners.

Another police car and a fire department truck were already onsite, when the one Jerrod tailed pulled into the lot. Numerous people were gathered around, mostly human. Though, Jerrod picked up a high ratio of Fae and angels, as they were increasingly flowing into Silverton.

Parking his bike, Jerrod caught a faint whiff of Michael's scent. He ran to the entrance and found Michael laying in his therianthropic form and bleeding. Two firefighters were applying pressure to Michael's side.

"That's my brother," Jerrod called out and tried to get closer.

"Sir, I need you to stay back," the short Asian angel cop instructed.

"Michael?" Jerrod cried to his brother.

The angel officer called for an ambulance, while still barring Jerrod with a wing. An increasing number of people outside were staring at Jerrod, and he knew they were displeased with him even being here.

The ambulance arrived, and the firefighters hastily moved Michael onto a stretcher that they wheeled in. Neither of the paramedics bothered asking anything of Jerrod, and just took off without saying what hospital they were heading for.

The police, however were very interested in Jerrod's showing up, and the angel officer walked him away from the crowd,before speaking. "What's your name?"

"Jerrod Conner," he answered immediately.

"Do you have any relation to the victim?" the angel cop inquired on.

"He's my brother," Jerrod said, taking some relief that the word suspect hadn't be used. "My dad told me that Michael didn't come home last night."

"Do you have any idea why someone would silver him?" The cop asked.

"Silvered?" Jerrod grew more alarmed, and was about to go to his bike. "Do the paramedics know that? I need to tell them."

"Whoa, sir," the angel cop put his arm in front of Jerrod. "They got the situation in control. I need you to answer some questions for me."

Jerrod shook his head in frustration and looked away. "Michael was once in Ridgewood Pack," and then gave the cop level eye contact. "But I got him to quit. I was straightening him out and getting him through the BPA shit he hadn't taken care of."

"What are you saying sir?" the cop asked.

"Look, it was back in the occupation days," Jerrod prefaced, "He'd joined Ridgewood while I was deployed. He let them turn him, and back then there wasn't a Bureau of Pentacaste Affairs yet. When I got home my parents told me about it, and I was helping him get right."

"Fuckin' howler!" a Luc Fae in the crowd reached for something he had behind his back. "Get out of our neighborhood!"

"Sir," the angel cop called back with his hand out. "Stay back and don't interfere. We'll handle this."

"Nah, I'm tired of these mongrels comin' here," the Fae shot back and produced a knife that Jerrod suspected was silver.

"Am I supposed to be scared now?" Jerrod called out but stayed calm. "You think I haven't been silvered before? Don't try that shit with me."

"Mr. Conner, just relax," the cop ordered.

"I am relaxed," Jerrod retorted, and looked to the officer while adding, "I've squared off with cannibal giants, human purists with silver bullets, Open Feeding vampires, and magic casting cultists. I'm not afraid of some punk with a silver knife."

"Okay, but really sir, please don't egg him on." the cop nodded and gently pushed Jerrod back a step and asked for confirmation, "You said you were deployed when your brother joined a street pack?"

"Yes sir," Jerrod reiterated, "Ohio National Guard, 37th Battalion Wild Strikers. I had spontaneously turned while activated, and they transferred me to deal with the heavy shit. That included kicking those Ridgewood fuckers' asses, so I know better than to be cruisin' in a street pack."

It went on for a few more minutes before the angel cop was satisfied, and then he called his dispatch. "One David Five, request hospital destination for Silverton medical call."

"Cincinnati University Hospital, Pentacasta Trauma Ward," the voice in the radio replied.

"You know where that is?" the cop asked Jerrod.

"Yeah," Jerrod nodded, "I guarded the place often enough."

"Okay, I'm going to drive you down there," the cop offered.

"I think it would be better if I took my bike," Jerrod suggested, looking to the growing agitation of the crowd. "God knows what'd happen to it if I left it here even for ten minutes."

"Fair enough," the officer said, also looking back at the Silverton residents, before facing him again. "But do stay behind me, and I'll clear you through traffic."

Jerrod mounted up, while the cop trotted to his car. The cop led the way out of the fast food parking lot, and used his lights to force light changes and warn other drivers. Jerrod reached the hospital faster for the cop's escort, and came into the front entrance while calling his dad.

"Hey, dad?" Jerrod said, still waiting in line for the information desk. "It's Jerrod. Michael got hurt over in Silverton-- I don't know why he was there, but someone attacked him-- I don't know why, and he wasn't conscious when I got there-- Dad, I know that's no place to be-- Yeah, cops and firefighters were there when I arrived-- Dad- dad, he was silvered. They got him to Cincinnati U's trauma ward for Pentacastes. I'm there now, trying to get information, but get everyone here-- Yeah, bye. Love you."

Jerrod hung up, and felt his throat tighten. He didn't want his voice to crack over the phone, because his dad already was getting worked up. Once he got to the desk he found that Michael was already moved to surgery and a toxicologist was involved.

Jerrod waited by himself for over an hour, before his parents and sister came in. A few people around the waiting room stared at the fact a werewolf had human parents and angel for a sister, but didn't make anything of it.

It would be three more hours before one of the physicians came out to address the family. Though, Jerrod knew from the Fae woman's hands and her walking pace that she had bad news.

"Mr. and Mrs. Conner?" the doctor said.

"Is he okay?" Jerrod's dad pleaded with desperation.

"We tried everything," she phrased in preparation of the news. "He held on far longer than we expected, even for a werewolf. You son was a fighter, but there was just too much silver exposure into his liver."

"What're you saying?" Jerrod dad cried, tears running down his face.

Jerrod's mom started crying on his dad's shoulders, "No!"

"Your son past away at ten, forty-seven," the doctor said it at last.

The four of them hugged each other and cried, while the Fae doctor just stood there clearly empathetic to their pain.


End file.
